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| 'MID the battle-gear saw he a blade triumphant, |
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| old-sword of Eotens, with edge of proof, |
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| warriors' heirloom, weapon unmatched, |
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| —save only 'twas more than other men |
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| to bandy-of-battle could bear at all— |
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| as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen. |
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| Seized then its chain-hilt the Scyldings' chieftain, |
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| bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword, |
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| reckless of life, and so wrathfully smote |
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| that it gripped her neck and grasped her hard, |
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| her bone-rings breaking: the blade pierced through |
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| that fated-one's flesh: to floor she sank. |
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| Bloody the blade: he was blithe of his deed. |
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| Then blazed forth light. 'Twas bright within |
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| as when from the sky there shines unclouded |
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| heaven's candle. The hall he scanned. |
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| By the wall then went he; his weapon raised |
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| high by its hilts the Hygelac-thane, |
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| angry and eager. That edge was not useless |
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| to the warrior now. He wished with speed |
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| Grendel to guerdon for grim raids many, |
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| for the war he waged on Western-Danes |
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| oftener far than an only time, |
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| when of Hrothgar's hearth-companions |
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| he slew in slumber, in sleep devoured, |
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| fifteen men of the folk of Danes, |
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| and as many others outward bore, |
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| his horrible prey. Well paid for that |
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| the wrathful prince! For now prone he saw |
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| Grendel stretched there, spent with war, |
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| spoiled of life, so scathed had left him |
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| Heorot's battle. The body sprang far |
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| when after death it endured the blow, |
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| sword-stroke savage, that severed its head. |
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| Soon,[1] then, saw the sage companions |
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| who waited with Hrothgar, watching the flood, |
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| that the tossing waters turbid grew, |
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| blood-stained the mere. Old men together, |
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| hoary-haired, of the hero spake; |
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| the warrior would not, they weened, again, |
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| proud of conquest, come to seek |
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| their mighty master. To many it seemed |
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| the wolf-of-the-waves had won his life. |
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| The ninth hour came. The noble Scyldings |
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| left the headland; homeward went |
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| the gold-friend of men.[2] But the guests sat on, |
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| stared at the surges, sick in heart, |
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| and wished, yet weened not, their winsome lord |
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| again to see. |
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| Now that sword began, |
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| from blood of the fight, in battle-droppings,[3] |
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| war-blade, to wane: 'twas a wondrous thing |
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| that all of it melted as ice is wont |
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| when frosty fetters the Father loosens, |
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| unwinds the wave-bonds, wielding all |
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| seasons and times: the true God he! |
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| Nor took from that dwelling the duke of the Geats |
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| save only the head and that hilt withal |
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| blazoned with jewels: the blade had melted, |
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| burned was the bright sword, her blood was so hot, |
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| so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished within there. |
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| Soon he was swimming who safe saw in combat |
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| downfall of demons; up-dove through the flood. |
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| The clashing waters were cleansed now, |
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| waste of waves, where the wandering fiend |
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| her life-days left and this lapsing world. |
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| Swam then to strand the sailors'-refuge, |
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| sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty glad, |
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| of burden brave he bore with him. |
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| Went then to greet him, and God they thanked, |
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| the thane-band choice of their chieftain blithe, |
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| that safe and sound they could see him again. |
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| Soon from the hardy one helmet and armor |
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| deftly they doffed: now drowsed the mere, |
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| water 'neath welkin, with war-blood stained. |
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| Forth they fared by the footpaths thence, |
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| merry at heart the highways measured, |
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| well-known roads. Courageous men |
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| carried the head from the cliff by the sea, |
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| an arduous task for all the band, |
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| the firm in fight, since four were needed |
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| on the shaft-of-slaughter[4] strenuously |
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| to bear to the gold-hall Grendel's head. |
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| So presently to the palace there |
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| foemen fearless, fourteen Geats, |
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| marching came. Their master-of-clan |
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| mighty amid them the meadow-ways trod. |
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| Strode then within the sovran thane |
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| fearless in fight, of fame renowned, |
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| hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet. |
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| And next by the hair into hall was borne |
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| Grendel's head, where the henchmen were drinking, |
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| an awe to clan and queen alike, |
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| a monster of marvel: the men looked on. |
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